


The Core

by blue_bees



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not good at this I just write the pain I want to read, Temporary Character Death, as in canon, i guess, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 07:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11642049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_bees/pseuds/blue_bees
Summary: Montgomery Scott always thought he'd go down with the ship. Anyone who says that's the captain's job has never met a chief engineer.James Kirk always thought he'd die alone. When it comes down to it, though, he'd much rather that he'd been right.---------------------As per the canon of the end of Into Darkness, all dead characters end up being alright, so dry your tears, you sensitive babies.





	The Core

The floor titled sickeningly and the starship beneath their feet let out a pained, dying groan as the captain ran up to the formidable-looking door that sealed in the warp core’s injector housing and began to punch in the access code. An out-of-breath man in engineering red pulled up behind him, face overwritten with panic. “What the hell are ye doing?” he said, eyes wide.

Kirk didn’t stop. “I’m opening the door. I’m going in.”

“That door is there tae stop us from getting irradiated! We’d be dead afore we made the climb!”

Kirk stared for a moment at the door, out of breath, his eyes hardening in resolution.

“You’re not making the climb,” he said softly.

Scotty barely had time to process what he’d said before there was a flicker of movement and Kirk whirled round towards him. More out of gut instinct than anything else, Scotty ducked, sending the fist that would’ve otherwise connected with his face skimming past to barely clip his jaw. He staggered backwards, hand pressed to his face more out of surprise than pain. Their eyes locked. They stood motionless for a moment, the knowledge that Kirk had wanted him unconscious standing between them.

“Ye were going tae go in without me,” Scotty said, first almost betrayed, then belligerent. He took a step towards the door, but Kirk moved swiftly to stand in front of it.

“One life for hundreds aboard this ship,” Kirk replied. “And countless others it might take when it falls. I have to do this.”

“I cannae let you do this,” Scotty said to him, but somehow with a different tone this time. “You’re the captain. They need you.” Kirk made another move for the door mechanism and the engineer caught his arm. “Listen, ye dinna know what you’re doing! I’ve been fixin’ things since ye were wee. I know this ship like the back of my hand, I-” The ship gave another long groan and shuddered beneath them. Kirk considered trying to hit Scotty again, but the man’s face was set in a way that made Kirk certain he wasn’t letting him in there without a fight. They didn’t have time for that. They didn’t have time for any of this.

Kirk took a deep breath. “Scotty,” he said, “as your commanding officer, I’m ordering you to stay here. I’m going in. Don’t follow me.” The engineer’s mouth opened as if to protest further, but Kirk cut him off. “That’s an order, Scotty.”

Kirk opened the hatch, sealed it behind him, and gave one last look at the pale face behind the thick glass before he began up the corridor out of sight.

The ship creaked and screeched. Scotty shook his head. He could feel her pain. The poor, brave man might be captain, but he didn’t truly know what he was doing. He couldn’t know. Scotty wouldn’t let him do this alone.

He opened the hatch and followed.

Even though the core wasn’t operating, he began feeling the radiation before he reached the top of the tunnel: an almost imperceptible tingling that grew to faint pins and needles on his face as he emerged. He pulled himself into the chamber, trying to shake off the strange cottony feeling beginning to seep into his brain, and looked up to see Kirk kicking the injector housing with all his might, trying to no avail to put it back upright.

“Dinnae do it that way,” Scotty called tiredly. “Ye might break the base.”

Kirk didn’t even look up as he strained against the machinery. “Scotty.” His voice was disappointed, but not really surprised. “This is insubordination.”

Scotty hauled himself up to where the captain was and leaned in towards the injector, carefully inspecting it. “Aye, but I resigned, remember?”

Kirk shook his head weakly. “I can’t ask you to do this.”

“As I recall, ye asked me  _ not _ tae do this.” Scotty fumbled with some cords, moving them aside, then evidently found the lever he wanted and forced it down. “That should be easier. Now, I need you tae push.”

Kirk braced his back against the support and got ready to deal one more blow as Scotty went around to the other side and hooked his arms around to pull it upright. Kirk paused. “I can do this part alone,” he said. “You don’t have to be here when it reactivates.”

Scotty’s mouth pulled into what could’ve been a smile. “Even with the trace radiation in th’ room, we’re dead men already, cap’n. The only question now is when.”

They looked at each other across the skewed core injector—a difference of three feet, a difference of a lightyear—and Kirk spoke.

“Okay, now.”

Kirk kicked, Scotty pulled, and the injector’s bulk tilted back into place with a burst of light like the world’s end. It was blast of light, hot and cold and ruthless, a shockwave that threw them backwards in a searing wave of radiation. Scotty lay there, legs dangling from the strut he’d been thrown against, trying to reorient himself as he struggled to breathe in the metallic tang of the ionized air. Somewhere, the main injector alarm had stopped, and a new one had begun, its blaring cutting into his fogged brain like a knife. Unless that was just the ringing in his ears? His skin still tingled, pins and needles of tissue damage, but his face was beginning to go numb. Strange.

“Scotty,” Kirk’s voice came weakly from below. He’d been thrown clear, and his voice sounded like he’d collided with several unforgiving surfaces on the way down. “Scotty, we did it. You did it.”

The alarm was really interfering with his thought process, but Scotty felt… odd. And not just in a radiation way. Or perhaps… not him, the ship felt odd. A little hiccup in her heartbeat. Nothing to write home about, but while he was here, he might as well—With immense effort, he pulled himself upright and dragged himself forwards again to the base of the injector and began feeling for a valve, his eyesight becoming impaired by the white static that the deadly rays were etching into his vision. He fumbled around until his fingers found purchase on a handle and held his face close to read it.  _ Primary Core Injector Intake Valve X233. _ That would have to do.

On the chamber floor below him, Kirk hauled himself to his feet, fighting through waves of nausea and a sharp pain in his side.  _ Maybe I should talk to Bones about that _ , he thought woozily, then gave a short (and painful) laugh. Yeah, right.

He could hear Scotty moving around above him, and staggered over to the closest strut, attempting to climb it. He struggled upwards, but only managed to get his torso up and onto it before his arms gave out. Still, he was close enough to see what the engineer was doing. He was crouched over a valve handle, trying with shaking hands to turn it. As Kirk watched, Scotty finally managed to move it. It was just a centimeter’s worth of movement. Still, it did the trick. The bright beam fluctuated with a crackling noise and a smell like ozone, then stabilized. Kirk watched the blue light in a kind of tired wonder. A beautiful ship. They'd done well to save her.

“She's beautiful, isn't she,” Scotty croaked sadly, voicing Kirk’s thoughts. He'd pulled himself up and was now leaning heavily on the injector base, gazing into the light. He was so close to the beam he could touch it. He tried to lift his hand to touch it— _ you'll burn yourself, that light can strip away atoms to dust, some rational part of his brain tried to protest but he didn't care _ —but found that he was shaking so badly he couldn't lift it above his shoulders. His hand fluttered as a moth trying vainly to reach a candle then fell still.

“She's beautiful.” One tear, then another, traced their way down Scotty's cheek and dripped to the injector casing where they sat, shining. After a moment, they were joined by a third drop, this one a scarlet color that glistened almost black in the cold blue light. Scotty had a nosebleed. His face had begun to go numb soon after he'd begun losing his vision, so he couldn't feel it, but the radiation was finally beginning to break down the physical barriers between cells. He’d be lucky if he lived another five minutes.

The sight of the blood on Scotty's face brought Kirk’s mind back for a moment. He didn't want to die in here. He didn't want Scotty to die in here. They had to leave.

Kirk laid a hand on Scotty's arm. “Good work, Scotty. Let's go.”

The engineer didn't budge, a voice speaking to him from somewhere far away.

Kirk tried again. “Scotty…”

“Aye,” the man finally replied, shifting to rise. He slipped, dizzy, and Kirk half-caught him. Kirk’s chest screamed silently with the pain of it, but he simply pressed his lips together and pulled the Scotsman’s arm over his shoulder, supporting him as best he could. His own legs seemed seconds from giving out, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. Not yet.

_ You messed up, Jimmy boy. _

But he’d fixed it, and saved everyone’s life.

Hadn’t he? Everyone but one person, who’d done the fixing for him, sort of. Damn hero complex. Damn hero complex, that’s what Bones would say. But Bones wouldn’t get a chance to say it to him. Or Spock. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about that now.

The way up had seemed short, but the same distance down was an unfathomable distance. It didn’t help that he was practically carrying Scotty now, either. The man seemed so small in his arms, but also so heavy, like dragging an albatross. By the time they reached the entrance, Kirk could barely hold himself up. He collapsed to his knees and laid the engineer’s body against the opposite wall, face slick with sweat. His lungs felt packed with cotton. Not good.

The feeling of Scotty’s fingers tightening around his wrist surprised him. He’d thought the smaller man was already gone, but no, he was saying something. Trying to say something, if only Kirk could focus on the words. 

“You canna open the hatch,” Scotty was saying. Numbly, Kirk agreed. He didn’t think he could stand up again to reach it if he tried.

“The radiation,” Scotty continued. “Ye’d flood the compartment. You canna open it.”

“I won’t,” Kirk replied. He wasn’t sure if the engineer could hear him or not, but it seemed to placate him enough to make him let go of Kirk’s sleeve. Or perhaps he was just tired. God, Kirk was tired. He allowed himself to sit back and wondered how long it would be until someone found them. 

He blinked. Time was going so oddly.

He blinked. Outside the sheet of thick glass protecting the outside world from the radiation inside, someone screamed.

He blinked. Something smelled like blood. Perhaps the large bloodstain on his shirt? He couldn’t remember who it had come from, Scotty or himself. Across from him, Scotty lay unmoving, probably not even breathing, blood crusting on his face. Kirk hoped he’d been thinking of something he loved when he’d stopped breathing. Like starships. Scotty loved starships. Kirk was thinking about the Enterprise, and Spock. His upper lip felt warm and wet. He had a nosebleed.

He blinked.

Bones was yelling at someone, as usual. Something about radiation flooding a compartment. Hey, that sounded familiar. Now Spock was talking, miles away. No, inches away. Inches of treated glass away. There he was, there’s Spock, and he was crying. That couldn’t be right.

“Captain,” he said.

“How’s the ship?” Kirk managed.

“Out of danger.”

Scotty would be happy about that.

Spock was still talking. “Jim.”

Bones was talking, too. “Jim. Hold on. Hold on, okay? Dammit, man, stay with me, just until we can open this door. For the love of god, hold on.”

Kirk didn’t think he could. Subspace static flickered in front of his eyes. He wasn’t done, he had more to say. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, with Bones shouting and Spock crying, and Kirk sitting there unable to say a word. And Keenser, standing at the glass, staring wordlessly at the body lying still opposite him. He wanted to say sorry to every last one of them, he really did, but he didn’t have the time.

So he put his hand up against the glass and hoped they’d understand.

He blinked.

In a galaxy far far away, someone was screaming.

_ KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN! _

  
  


Kirk blinked, and everything tasted bad. Eugh.

The walls were white, the sheets were white, the grumpy doctor staring down at him was cross but smiling, the man in the biobed beside him was motionless. The room was white. He was in medbay.

Everything came back to him like being punched in the jaw, from the moment he failed to do the same to Scotty to Spock’s cry. A moment of panic enveloped him. That was Scotty, in the next bed over. Kirk was alive? Was Scotty alive? Was—

“Relax,” McCoy said, not even glancing up from the machine he was looking at. “You two were only barely dead. It was the transfusion that really took its toll, you’ve been out cold for two weeks.”

“Then Scotty…”

“Oh, alive and kicking. He actually woke up four days ago, but we had to put him back under because he was vomiting blood like he had some Denebian virus. I don't know what happened in there, but he managed to get three times the dose of radiation you did. I mean, did he stick his head inside the reactor chamber or something?”

Kirk said nothing. For a moment an image of Scotty's face, lit a cold blue by the beam of the matter injector, came to mind. The memory was grainy around the edges with the damage of radiation poisoning.

“Anyways,” Bones continued, “He woke up for good yesterday. Fine now, just tired from all those physicals and psych tests. Speaking of which, feeling homicidal? Power mad? Despotic?”

Kirk was beginning to think he'd missed something. “Des...despotic? Hang on, transfusion?”

“Khan,” McCoy explained. “Say what you want about the bastard, but his blood is one hell of a drug. You'll have to thank Spock for that one. Just do me a favor, will you, and don't tell him I said that?”

Kirk allowed himself to sink back into his white pillow, a smile creeping across his mouth. “Sure thing.”

Beside him, a loud snort startled both of them as the body in the neighboring biobed began to stir. It sighed, groaned, and rolled over to reveal a rather haggard face staring back at them.

“Hello, Cap’n,” Scotty said. “I'm not fired again, am I?”

The question took Kirk off guard. “Fired? Why?”

“Well, what with disobeyin’ a direct order and all.” Scotty looked almost sheepish. “I do seem to be doing an awful lot o’ that lately.”

Kirk actually laughed, though it made his woozy head spin. “Scotty, with the number of times you've saved all our asses, I think a spot of insubordination can be forgiven. So long as you don't intend to make a habit of it.”

“Wouldnae dream of it.” Scotty sat up gingerly and picked up an odd package from his bedside table. “Would ye look at this? The wee man got me chocolates. With… actually, I dinnae have a clue what sort o’ filling this is. Nae anything from Earth, I'll tell ye that.” He sniffed the chocolates curiously, then offered the box to Kirk. “Like to try one?”

Kirk took a cautious look at the innocent-looking sweets and decided against it. Best to be cautious, and it seemed his stomach still wasn't quite as awake as the rest of him. “I'll pass,” he replied.

Scotty shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He selected a square one and took a bite.

Kirk eased himself upright, testing the waters of this new dimension. He didn't pass out, which seemed a good sign. For a minute, he just watched Scotty eat the chocolate, observing his facial expressions as the man tried to determine the provenance of the mysterious filling. But something was weighing on him.

“Scotty,” he finally said aloud.

The engineer looked up, and Kirk hesitated. He glanced over at McCoy, who had moved to the other room. It wasn't that he didn't want the doctor to hear this conversation, it was simply that it was an awkward conversation to have, the sort that you weren't supposed to get to have because you had to die to have it.

“Aye?” asked Scotty, still waiting for him to continue. Kirk shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He had the profound feeling that one of them was supposed to apologize, and was beginning to fear that it had to be him.

“You followed me in there.” Kirk sighed. “You knew you'd die, and you followed me.”

Scotty snorted and picked up a triangular chocolate. “Ach, dinnae act so surprised. Ye knew I'd try to follow you, or you wouldn’a tried tae knock me flat first.”

“Well, yes, but why?”

He shrugged and took a bite. “You are the captain, aren't ye? Couldna let you go alone. Any one o’ the crew would do the same.”

“But they didn't. You did.”

“Because I was there with ye, that's all,” Scotty said. Kirk didn't look convinced, so he set the box aside and looked directly at the captain. “I challenge you tae name one member o’ the crew who wouldna followed you in there. Can ye think of one?” Silence. “Well, neither can I. You're the cap’n, and we'd follow ye to the ends of the earth.”

“They all would have,” Kirk repeated slowly. “Any one of them.”

“Aye, and aren't ye lucky that ye got the only one who could actually help? Bless ‘em, some o’ these ensigns barely know a socket wrench from a sonic screwdriver.”

Kirk nodded with a growing grin, and inwardly wondered what a socket wrench looked like.

“We'll both have to thank Spock,” he said, thinking out loud.

“Already did yesterday,” Scotty informed him, tucking back into the chocolate box. “Now it's your turn. Say, do ye think he might want one o’ these? Cannae tell for anything what’s in ‘em, but the last one seemed tae be soaked in brandy. Who knows what the Vulcan might think of them.”

Kirk laid himself back into the sheets, allowing himself some amusement at the image of his chief engineer offering the science officer a mystery chocolate. “Don't think so, Scotty. Spock's not big on chocolate.”

“Each to his own,” Scotty said, unbothered. Kirk stared at the white medbay ceiling and let himself relax. You'd think that with two weeks of unconsciousness, he'd be well rested, but all he felt was very, very tired.

He blinked, and when Scotty turned to him to share his newest theory as to what the goopy pink stuff inside the oval-shaped confections might be, all that answered the Scotsman was a snore.


End file.
